


In the Stillness, Dancing

by VTMorris



Category: Original Work, Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Brutality, Dark, Dubious Morality, Epic, F/F, Fate & Destiny, Female Protagonist, Gen, Good versus Evil, Historical, Historical Accuracy, Intense, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, LGBTQ Themes, Literary References & Allusions, Melancholy, Mental Anguish, Original Fiction, POV Multiple, Political Alliances, Psychological, Psychological Drama, Rebellion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Renaissance Era, Serious, Slow Burn, Trope Subversion/Inversion, Violent, Violent Thoughts, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:15:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25073731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VTMorris/pseuds/VTMorris
Summary: The Black Forest, the early 16th century.As peasants revolt in the thousands against their overbearing lords, a Clan tucked deep away in the thicket grapples with their Leader's recent death. Florian, the young heir-apparent, rises to take his father's place. He is advised by a council still adherent to his father's ambitions--and their own. The vultures begin to circle.His older sister, Adelgundis, attends the Clan's soothsayer as he witnesses a terrible vision. Branded a mad heretic by Florian, the soothsayer is executed; in ordering the death of the Clan's most respected member, he has sealed its fate. Adel watches helplessly as brother turns on brother and sister turns on sister; as rival Clans encroach on their borders; as her familial detachment is violently brought to a close.
Kudos: 3





	1. Adelgundis

>   
>  Following Florian's coronation, Adel notices something unusual with the soothsayer.  
> 

I peered into the cave’s darkness. 

“Your Eminence?” I called.

Beside me, I sensed how Linde’s hackles rose. Her eyes were shivering; her nose was scrunched in disgust. Now and again she flicked her gaze to me, as if saying: “Don’t go any farther.”

I had no intention of doing so, but I couldn’t turn away.

A wind blew softly into the cave, singing off the stones, scattering the loose pebbles. They tumbled into the clouds of moss and were muffled.

The soothsayer’s paw shot from the shadows. His claws closed around a span of ancient lichen.

Linde turned around and lifted her tail: barring my entrance.

I turned to her. She shook her head. Her eyes said more than words ever could. Suppressing a cringe, I returned to the cave. The paw was writhing. Its claws closed tighter around the lichen, exposing more of the mottled leg. I tilted my head with a squint.

“Your Eminence?” I heard myself echo. My voice was a warble.

“Leave him, Adel,” Linde told me. “This is unwise.”

I shook my head. The soothsayer had kept to his cave since Florian’s coronation. None of the acolytes went to check on him; they mingled with the rest.

“You wouldn’t tell my brother the same,” I muttered.

“Because he is the king.”

“And what am I?”

Her eyes hardened.

“His foolish sister.”

“Keep that tail away.”

Begrudgingly, Linde relented. She fled my peripheral but I knew she remained beside me.

I leaned forward.

The soothsayer was muttering something. The wind amplified and blurred his gnarled words. What once was a honeyed voice now found my ears like bile. Somewhere, in that shapeless dark, I saw His Eminence writhing. He must have shut his eyes, for nothing lit up the shadows.

Clouds released the sun. The panel of light bleeding into the cave sharpened and intensified.

“Highness,” Linde began, her voice now a plead, “if you remain here any longer…”

“What will happen?” I asked, suddenly calmer. “Will my brother put his older sister to death as his first kingly act?”

That silenced her. I fully turned to her to drive my question home—

—a yowl within the cave snapped Linde’s face back toward it. Her back arched; her eyes hardened again, blue as the sky preceding a storm.

“Has he gone mad?” she snarled.

A presence approached us from the rear. I wheeled around.

“Uncle Albrecht,” I sighed. In the corner of my eye I saw Linde look behind her shoulder and snap her posture to perfect stillness. I dipped my head. Linde had retracted her claws before she turned.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his eyes pulled into slits. “And you”—he turned to Linde—“this is holy ground. Leave!” he snapped. Linde bounded off into the thicket.

“Wasn’t His Eminence supposed to be left undisturbed?” Uncle asked. I lifted my head. He, too, was gazing past me and into the cave. 

“I worried for him.”

Softer, Uncle replied, “He doesn’t need Princess Adelgundis worrying for him. Nor any of the High House.” He further closed the distance between us, brushing his shoulder with mine. His head dipped to nudge my nape, uprooting my paws from the earth. “Go on back to the Mere,” he said. “Leave the soothsayer be. He is not ready; not even for you.”

Something within me worried that His Eminence might thrash out from the dark and draw Uncle Albrecht into the deep.

But nothing came.

“Forgive me, Uncle.”

By then he had gone back to stand in front of me. His eyes had dimmed. “When your father was crowned, His Eminence behaved just the same. Let’s away, now.”

He started off, but I remained for a few more moments. I glanced behind myself toward the cave. The soothsayer’s paw had retracted back into the dark, but in the strong white light I saw markings deep and red upon the lichen.

Uncle Albrecht was glaring at me.

I hastened to follow.


	2. AUTHOR'S NOTE

hey y'all, this is Gary (the author)! i hope you're enjoying the story so far!

i've decided to open up this author's note to let you guys know about the schedule since it's so early in, and i'd rather y'all find out about it now rather than later.

chapters will be once or twice a week! usually back to back.

thank you for this short time and remember that feedback is always welcome!! <3

-G


	3. Linde

>   
>  Linde reflects on the previous hours; at the council meeting, she overhears something terrible.  
> 

The evening sun found me in my den. Albrecht’s arrival had given me a shock, humiliating as that is to admit. I was nursing my chagrin, looking now and again to the Mere outside, hoping the view would fog it all away: I found myself drawn to the tree’s shadows pulled across the flowers, dim and warmed.

The festivities had died down. Earlier I saw Florian’s councilors—Albrecht among them—lead him away to the Highrock; I went to Adelgundis then, and that was when she brought me along to see the soothsayer. Our voices were nearly lost in the roar of the feast; maybe she thought I was the one who wanted to check on His Eminence, and part of me wished she saw the councilors lead her brother away, too. Then I wouldn’t have had to ask.

Neither was the case. I never got the opportunity to ask, anyway.

My lips curled to frown, deep and full of dread. Adelgundis was always lost in her thoughts and I, as her bodyguard, always had to drag her back to reality. She never fought back.

I blinked.

No—at the soothsayer’s, she did. She told me to lower my tail and I did as told.

I felt my own tail sink, then, at the realization. I snapped it back into the air. Humiliation disgusted me. It always did.

I reconstructed the past hours, reliving my shock—where had Albrecht come from?

The session must have been brief, or he must have broken away just to tell his niece and I to get away. Adelgundis, for obvious reasons; warriors like myself were allowed nowhere near holy ground.

One of these days, I thought, they’ll find me and they’ll gut me.

“An acolyte came to me,” Councilor Johann slowly began, “and he said: ‘The soothsayer has gone mad.’ What do you make of that? I told him to get the hell away, ‘Who are you, how dare you speak such things?’ He withheld his name, but by the Sun, I saw the fear in his eyes, my dear councilors.”

The dim fire doused pulsing light across his whitened face.

“Shortly after her Highness left the soothsayer,” Johann went on, “this acolyte went to pay him a visit. He slipped away from the festivities as Councilor Albrecht”—he nodded to him—“had. Anyway, he told me that he crept inside one paw at a time. The soothsayer was somewhere in the shadows; the bluebells around his circle of stones were rotting; water usually dripped and sang on the stones but the acolyte heard none of that. He simply heard His Eminence’s creaking voice say, over and over, ‘Pyre.’”

“‘Pyre’?’” Florian asked, his voice still slaked with youth. “Go on, Councilor.”

I was standing guard outside the den, eyes front, ears keened to the back. Sometimes, when they were lost in discussion, I dared a glance into their chamber.

Florian’s eyes were always so wide; he looked lost.

“I… I…” Councilor Johann stammered, shaking his head. “Forgive me, Majesty. I am finding it difficult to form my thoughts.”

I imagined Adelgundis telling him, “Form them quickly.”

“Take your time,” her brother softly said.

At last the councilor continued, “The acolyte told me his name.”

“Which was?” Albrecht put in.

“Jack.”

“’Jack,’” King Florian echoed.

Johann nodded. “I followed Jack into the cave of His Eminence, leaving my guard—as is tradition—outside the bramble ring.” Perhaps he glared at me but I did not see it. Either way, I cringed. “‘Pyre,’ His Eminence was groaning. ‘Pyre. Pyre.’ His words shimmered off the cave walls and Jack stood there, petrified. I sought to ask what the meaning of all this was, but my words died on my tongue. Jack looked back at me, his tail between his legs, his ears flattened to his skull. ‘Pyre, pyre, pyre…’ I shook my head. The soothsayer’s eyes opened at last…”

Silence seized him.

Then it seized them all.

“And then what?” Florian finally asked. Though soft and meek, his voice filled the chamber.

“…I implored this meeting to be called, even on your Majesty’s first days of rest, and now I am here. Neither I nor Jack found any trace of madness. His Eminence was simply immersed in his auguries. That is that, I think.”

“You think,” Albrecht stated.

“Yes, Councilor,” Johann murmured.

I knew Albrecht was glaring at him.

“Since you are a fan of mild language, what do you ‘think’ we should do with this acolyte? Have you any proof?”

“My lord Albrecht,” the Councilor beside him began—

“—Quiet.”

I pictured him meeting Johann’s furtive eyes over the firepit, and a smirk forming across his face.

“Clergy or no”—Johann’s throat was dry—“he has still spoken out against His Eminence… more, in fact, than speaking out. He accused him of madness.”

“Get to the point.”

“He should be arrested.”

And I paled.


	4. Adelgundis

>   
>  Adelgundis is confronted by Jack about his arrest.  
> 

“Your Highness! Your Highness!” someone was calling out to me. I swerved to face whoever it was. Jack was making a mad dash across the bank to meet me. He skidded to a halt, nearly tripping.

“What is it?” I said.

He shook his head. “Please don’t take me—they—the Council—”

My fur bristled. “What?”

Jack hung his head; the sun drew itself behind a cloud. For several moments all I heard was the river: purling, languid, incessant. I imagined it curling back and striking Jack in the face—maybe he could explain then.

My thoughts stilled.

“…What about the Council?” I slowly spoke up.

Jack’s eyes were pulled tightly shut. He turned away. “Forgive me, Highness.” He forced himself to look up at me. His gray eyes quivered as they matched mine. “I’d spoken out of turn. No, I did worse. I called His Eminence mad but I didn’t mean it, Highness, please please please please—”

A thousand scenarios leapt into my imagination, all culminating with Jack’s death. Foolish. What was he thinking? It was my turn to look away from him; I gazed listlessly at the river, asking its waters for guidance. The fish flashed beneath the waves, speckling light in the gray of the sun. On the opposite bank sprawled a thicker underbrush. It was there the Twolegs made their dwellings, and where they toiled beneath their lords. Jack could never make the swim. But if he fled…

My leg quivered. I struck him across the face. He fell sideways into the shallows, writhing, struggling to rise up in the mud.

It happened so quickly. My ears folded to my skull. I shut my eyes.

“You’re a fool,” I seethed. But I heard only my heart. “How could you?”

“You saw it, too!” he snapped, hurling all his respect to the river. “You saw the soothsayer’s madness, you saw him.”

“Hold your tongue.”

Sorrow and regret usurped any and all fury. I hung my head like he did.

“They would’ve called for your arrest by now,” I said weakly. A shiver bolted through my being and I looked up. “Get out of here. Get out. Now. Now, go go go!”

As soon as I said that I noticed three or four silhouettes leaping from the underbrush to mark themselves on the horizon. They were all turned to Jack and I.

No. They wouldn’t harm one of royal blood.

But an acolyte…

Jack was frozen, as I was when I beheld His Eminence.

I watched the guards sprint across the bank toward us, tails in the air like bannerets for war.

Several moons ago I found Jack beside that very same bank, playing with a straw ball somebody had left. I was half my age, then; and he was still a kit. He was bashful when I ran into him. 

“Highness,” he stammered. 

I couldn’t help but giggle. “Yes?” I asked coyly. He had been tossing the ball between his paws but it gradually rolled to a stop beside one of them. 

“I’m so sorry!” 

“What for? I don’t think you’re doing anything wrong.” 

He didn’t need to tell me he wasn’t occupying himself with studies. My mind was occupied by Linde; of course, she wasn’t my bodyguard then, and there was no enmity between us. I saw her passing by one day and eventually brought her into my service. Bodyguards are retained for life, and perhaps that was what began it all. 

I lapsed into daydreaming and Jack had to meekly call out “Highness” to lead me back to reality. I cocked my head at him. 

“Would you like to have this ball?” he asked stiltedly and between breaths. 

My gaze fell to the ball at his paw; back to him; to the ball again. In little increments I reached out to drag it back to me. The texture was supple and smooth, the craftsmanship exquisite. Some sort of twine had been tied once and again to hold the straw together. 

“This is rather fun,” I admitted. 

I knew he was smiling, though I didn’t see it. 

“Your Highness can keep it if she wants,” he murmured. 

“Let me play with it some more. Where did you get this?” 

“I found it around here, I think. I was collecting herbs for the soothsayer.” 

His explanation made me stop. I held the ball to the mud, glaring at it. It was a Twoleg invention. I snapped my head up to him— 

—the warrior was upon Jack in a second. Yowls broke the day. Ravens fled from the trees. The other two hastened toward me and lifted their tails to bar me from interfering. But I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. I could only watch. The fight had taken to the shallows. Their forms passed between the reeds. Shouts, curses; orders to yield met by futile resistance. 

I tore my gaze away, facing the underbrush behind me. 

I discarded all the violent noise, too, focusing solely on the river's running water. 

It grew louder. 

And louder. 

And louder. 

Somewhere in the raging current I heard my heartbeat and my breath above it. The layers moved as smooth as ice, cracked now and again by a jagged movement in the water. 

“Please, Highness,” the taller of the warriors begged, “do not look.” 

The current had stilled. Somewhere, cicadas were serenading. 

I dared a glance toward the shallows… 

The warrior panted as he emerged from the reeds. "Heretic," he spat. Behind the stalks, in the water, I saw a limpid black form. Ripples and bubbles cast out from one defined end, losing themselves in the lazy current. 

Jack perished just like that.


End file.
